


A sharp knife for a wicked life

by SushiKatt



Category: Blackhat (2015), The Night Manager (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub, Hand Jobs, Inspired By Tumblr, Knife Play, M/M, No Blood, Smut, men in panties, sub jonathan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 23:57:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13375785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SushiKatt/pseuds/SushiKatt
Summary: After operation Leech, after things fell apart with Jed, Jonathan has resettled in Sydney, Australia. He needs some pretty deep thrills to get off, but he has Nick to give them to him.





	A sharp knife for a wicked life

**Author's Note:**

> So I reblogged a gifset on tumblr and added some tags;
> 
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> [](http://tinypic.com?ref=3589cmc)  
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> 
> Got a request that I "write those tags" from a mutual on there. I went with using Jonathan Pine from the Night Manager instead of the characters of the play Coriolanus because I don't generally mess with Shakespeare, and I've wanted to write something with Nick Hathaway and Jonathan Pine.
> 
>  
> 
> Link to the original gifset:  
> http://joeykoji.tumblr.com/post/75789224072

 

 

Jonathan trembles, kneeling on the seats of two kitchen chairs, one knee on each chair so his legs are forced apart, hands behind his back so his spine is curved and pushes his ass out.

Like Nick wants him.

  
Nick hasn’t touched him since the game started. Jonathan never knows the specifics of the game, just that his safeword will be respected. Probably. Some nights, he mouths his safeword while Nick fucks him from behind and can’t see it, so he can pretend to have his safeword ignored.

  
A normal person might have been frightened in a predicament like Jonathan’s. But, if he can fantasize about having his safeword taken away from him, doing a balancing act while Nick circles him with a sharp knife in hand isn’t that obscure. He needs it. Life after Operation Leech wasn’t the same, few things could give him any sense of thrill, of feeling.

  
But then came Nick.

  
More accurately, Jonathan found Nick and they both came.

 

When Jonathan posted an ad online ( _“30+ fit submissive male looking for similar topdom in area of Sydney. Must be discreet”)_ he’d gotten a ton of responses, but Nick had been the one who sounded like he knew what he was talking about, and when he walked into the public café they’d agreed as their first meeting spot, Jonathan had been sold. The guy was gorgeous with his blond hair, strikingly blue eyes and tanned, big muscles, covered by a simple v-neck t-shirt and some shorts. A little bit of stubble decorated his jaw.

 

He wasn’t exactly discreet; people were definitely checking him out when they sat there. When he told Jonathan that he worked with computers, Jonathan nearly laughed.

They chatted a bit, long enough for Jonathan to delete the ad he’d posted while they walked back to the hotel room he’d booked.

 

 

 

“How’s my little cherry doing?” Nick calls Jonathan back to the moment.

He always calls him “cherry”. Says that’s what his kisses taste like.

  

Jonathan glares defiantly at him from the corner of his eyes, but Nick just laughs, stalking around Jonathan until he’s standing behind him. His left arm slides down across Jonathan’s shoulder and over his chest, pulling him back ever so gently until he’s leaning against Nick’s front. The outline of Nick’s hard prick is burning against his back.

Nick’s right-hand brandishes the knife, holding it with the blunt side up to Jonathan’s neck, the sharp edge cutting into the collar of his old sweater.

  
He pauses there, and Jonathan feels the first thrill creep up his spine.

The grip on his chest relaxes, stroking reassuringly as Nick leans down to press a kiss to Jonathan’s forehead. His scruff tickles.

 

“So that’s how you wanna play, huh?”

 

The knife has heated up from resting on Jonathan’s skin, tickling when Nick traces it down and cuts right through his sweater until it simply falls off his shoulders, the front of it pooling around his knees.

Jonathan lets out a shuddering breath.

 

 Nicks soft fingertips trace over Jonathan’s skin, following the invisible trail of his knife before grabbing what remains of his sweater and tearing up the last inch of fabric that’s keeping it together.

 

 Jonathan’s chest heaves with every breath, and though the air in the room is warm his skin is covered in goosebumps. He’d personally picked out the combat knife, sharpened it and cleaned it before showing it to Nick. There was something special about picking your own torture.

Nick uses the blunt side again to trail the knife up to Jonathan’s nipples. They’re so stiff that the knife skips over them in a comical way, except Jonathan can’t laugh when all his focus is on staying on his improvised pedestal and not lean into the knife.

“So _pert_.”

 

Using the very needle-thin tip of the knife, he trails it over Jonathan’s shoulder, following the curve of his spine. Should Jonathan be scared that he couldn’t see the knife, that he’s letting this Nick whose surname he never wanted hold a knife to his back?

 

Nick slaps the skin just above the hem of Jonathan’s trousers with the flat of the blade.

“How’s my pet?”

  
Again, Jonathan feels the blunt side of the knife on his skin, sliding…

  
_Sliding down his crack_.

 

There’s the sound of fabric tearing, then the air on his ass before Nick’s palm gropes him there appreciatively. The fabrics of his underwear, however, remain intact because he feels the lace pattern being dragged across his skin with Nick’s fondling.

  
“And you wore your best underwear for me. So sweet. I’m going to ruin them.”

  
Jonathan drops his gaze down, because he should be snarling at Nick’s condescending words, but his prick is making an impressive tent out of his red panties.

 

Nick moves on from his ass, cutting his trousers to shreds so they’re as out of the way as they can be without Jonathan moving. But then Nick stands up to his full height again, looking over Jonathan’s shoulder at his hard-on.

  
“Look at you, already hard.”

  

The knife twists under the waistband of the lace, follows the curve around Jonathan’s hip until he’s but a couple inches away from Jonathan’s dick, and he slowly pushes the knife forwards. The fabric stretches like Jonathan’s desperation, before the stress is too much and it finally snaps. The pieces of lace drip down to hang from Jonathan’s left thigh. The strips dangle with every pulse of his heartbeat.

Nicks left hand comes down, sliding a fingertip over the head of Jonathan’s cock until he feels the precum building.

Nick spits in the palm of his hand and uses that to slick things up when he wraps his fingers around Jonathan’s cock. He keeps his grip loose, stroking and twisting his hand in a way that makes Jonathan’s hips twitch to follow that sweet friction. It doesn’t take long for Nick to bring Jonathan to a state of frantically rutting his hips into Nick’s hand.

“Stop. Stop, baby. Keep still.”

 

 

He whines low in his throat. The effort it takes him to keep still and not just bring his hands forward and finish himself off is clearly herculean - can’t Nick see that?  
If he can, he seems to ignore it, waiting a few more beats, before place the knife against Jonathan’s neck. It barely touches the skin, but it’s cool again now, making it feel all the more sharp.

“Keep very still, pet. Very still.”

 

He spits in his palm again and resumes stroking Jonathan with that too-loose grip.

Jonathan whimpers, but he doesn’t move, barely breathes.

“That’s it,” Nick praises him. “Good slut. Now you’re gonna cum for me like the beautiful little slut that you are.”

 

Jonathan would protest but every motion of his throat seems to bring that knife closer to breaking the skin. Besides, he’s dripping precum now.

 

 

“Yeah, that’s it, pet. My filthy little slut, are you gonna cum with a knife to your lovely little neck?”

Nick starts squeezing tighter around the tip of Jonathan’s dick with every pump.

 

 

“What a perverted thing you are. I can tell how bad you need to cum, so fucking close, aren’t you? Only a pervert would cum like this. Is that what you are? A filthy, beautiful little pervert slut?”

 

 

Jonathan throws his head back and cries out. His whole body shudders, his cum spurting out on the floor and Nick’s fingers. Nick keeps stroking, and the sharp edge on his neck lifts so Jonathan doubles over when Nick keeps touching his oversensitive dick.

“That’s it, that’s my sweet pet, oh you did so good, baby, so good.”

The knife is gone from Nick’s hand when he slides his arm around Jonathan’s waist, keeping him from collapsing.

“Deep breaths, boy. Deep breaths. I’m gonna lift you off the chairs. Playtime isn’t over yet.”

 


End file.
